Nobody
by mochachill
Summary: I'm nobody. Who are you? Are you nobody too? (R/S)


Title: Nobody   
Author: C.J.    
Rating: PG-13   
Genre: Romance   
Codes: R/S   
Summary: First Kiss.   
Beta: Super Susan217 

SPECIAL NOTE: The LD Awards are currently running. Nomination must be in by July 30, at which point voting will begin. If you are a fan of Hoshi fic, please do your favorite authors the service of voting for them.  **www.lingdata.net**

Also, to the person who left that oh-so-thoughtful "review", YES IT IS AN EMILY DICKINSON POEM. Her name appeared clearly in my original posting elsewhere, but was accidentally left out. But hey, you recognized it didn't you? I'm fairly certain no one accidentally thought it was mine. Try to remain calm.

****  
  
_I'm Nobody! Who are you?   
Are you—Nobody—Too?   
Then there's a pair of us!   
Don't tell! they'd advertise—you know!   
  
How dreary—to be—Somebody!   
How public—like a Frog—   
To tell one's name—the livelong June—   
To an admiring Bog! _

_EMILY DICKINSON_  
  
------   
  
His pride stings as he stands in the back of the outdoor amphitheater. The yellow lights on the stage are a bright contrast to the purplish light that indicates evening on this world. The purple is only amplified by the fact that most of the planet's vegetation is some shade of plum or lavender. A lovely place, really…   
  
At least up here he has a clear vantage point—not that it's necessary. He has people posted all around the area, with clear instructions to be on guard. He marches a thin line on these occasions. How does a man instruct his people to be on high alert without directly disobeying his Captain—who as usual is convinced there is no reason to worry?   
  
The hardest part is finding a way to say 'don't let the Captain see you' without actually saying it. He's thankful that after three years, his people seem to understand the unspoken message. Still, he would prefer to be down in the front row, seated next to the Captain and Trip. Not so much to watch the performance as to watch their backs.   
  
The Captain had informed him it was unnecessary—that if he wasn't going to enjoy the performance than he should go see about the supplies. For the millionth time in his life, Malcolm had found himself biting his tongue and going against his better judgment.   
  
The pitying glance he got from Commander Tucker did _not_ improve his mood.   
  
------   
  
Nearly an hour has passed, and her cheeks still burn if she allows the memory to slip into her conscious mind.   
  
The familiar, panicky feeling as confusion built on the aliens' faces. She had worked frantically with the UT, trying to impose her will on it.   
  
"Talk to them," Archer had insisted. Never mind that she had met them at the same time he did, and _he_ didn't have any grasp of their language. Miracles are her job. Finally, as disaster had seemed inevitable, the aliens had produced their own, much more efficient translators.   
  
Archer's face had shown relief. Then he glanced at Hoshi and casually said, "Well, I guess we're ok here, Ensign. Why don't you head on back?"   
  
Trip's sympathetic look didn't make her feel any better.   
  
Dismissed. Standing at the back of the theater, waiting until the supply run can take her back to the ship, Hoshi thinks, _Certainly, Captain, and why don't you shove this UT right up your…   
  
This is not a healthy train of thought_, she reminds herself. She walks slowly among the amethyst trees. It is a beautiful planet. It even smells purple, if that's possible. Sort of cool, with a subtle, flowery scent.   
  
It's the kind of place where things stand still—where you could be lost, and people might not remember that you were ever there in the first place.   
  
She hasn't made up her mind if this is a bad thing or a good thing.   
  
------   
  
Reedy music is filtering up from the stage when he hears her approach. He glances over at her, already knowing it's Hoshi. She's waiting for the transport just like him, per the Captain's instructions.   
  
She doesn't smile; neither does he. Just a nod from each of them and she comes to stand beside him.   
  
They listen for a while. Finally, she says, "It's a pacifist culture."   
  
He glances at her. The corner of his mouth lifts slightly. "I know." He relaxes his posture some, knowing that she's right. His arm brushes hers as he shifts his weight.   
  
She doesn't respond. For a reason he can't name, he tests her reaction further. He lets his weight rest on his right hip, bringing his arm in permanent contact with her shoulder. She seems perfectly content to allow the small disregard of regulations.   
  
He turns his head. She is looking outward, but glances at him when she feels his eyes on her profile.   
  
She lifts an eyebrow. Her mouth quirks in a replica of his earlier expression.   
  
Malcolm looks away from her and glances around. They are well within cover of the trees. He can see two of his crew, illuminated by the lights from the stage…but he doubts that they can see him in the darkening purple light of the woods.   
  
When he looks back at her, he isn't surprised to see she is watching him expectantly. But he still experiences a lurch of heat.   
  
He tilts his head towards her just slightly, giving her ample opportunity to step away.   
  
The intensity in his belly and groin becomes a full roar when Hoshi hooks a finger in the collar of his uniform and tugs him down to set her mouth on his.   
  
He opens his mouth the second their lips make contact, sliding his mouth across hers. Her tongue scrapes over the roof of his mouth.   
  
Turning his body to face her, he skims his hands across her waist and downward to clench her ass, pulling her up into full contact with his body. She stumbles slightly, and they fall backwards, catching purchase when her back hits a tree. One of his hands gets smashed between her body and tree bark; he yanks it out and the resulting throb of torn flesh only fuels him.   
  
Her breath comes in little gasps, resonating in his mouth. He groans just a little as he lets his free hand explore her. She wraps an arm around his neck, lifting herself upward, and then slips a hand over his backside, grasping. He mutters nonsense against her mouth   
  
She tastes extraordinary; she feels even better.   
  
He bites her lower lip. She makes a sound that vibrates against his teeth and he grabs the zipper of her uniform, dragging it downward.   
  
It creates a rasping sound in the silence that is broken only by their breathing.   
  
Silence.   
  
They realize at the same time that the music has stopped. Hoshi jerks her head back, holding his eyes with hers as she listens.   
  
The concert is over. Even Malcolm can hear the audience gathering themselves to leave, to walk through these woods on their way back to the village.   
  
Reluctantly, Malcolm lowers Hoshi and releases her. He takes one step back. Still too close for propriety, if someone should see them.   
  
He sighs, and takes another step. He lets his eyes drift from Hoshi, back towards the amphitheater.   
  
She clears her throat and he looks back at her. Her face is nearly obscured by the darkness, but he can see that her mouth twists in an awkward smile. He feels his face form a similar expression. He supposes he should say something; he knows he'll be desperate to apologize by tomorrow morning.   
  
Hoshi only shrugs. "Walk me back?" she says casually. Malcolm stares at her for a moment. Embarrassed by his discomfiture, he nods.   
  
The crowd starts to appear around them. Only a few meters away, the Captain and Trip are walking with the tribal leader, happily discussing the performance.   
  
Hoshi and Malcolm fall into step behind them. Neither the Captain nor the Commander notices their presence. Eventually, they turn towards the village—Malcolm and Hoshi continue on to the shuttlepod that will take them back to Enterprise.   
  
Malcolm pauses to frown in the direction of the village. He feels 99 percent confident that there is no danger on this planet…but perhaps he should offer a few last minute instructions to the men he's stationed.   
  
Warm fingers caress his, creating a pulse that extends from his hand to his entire body. Hoshi's smile comes easily this time. Nodding towards the shuttlepod landing site, she tugs lightly at his arm before dropping it, conscious of the crewmen that will be waiting.   
  
He knows he shouldn't feel the lust that curls in him. He doesn't care.   
  
For once, being nobody in the Captain's eyes is going to have its rewards.


End file.
